Of course not, but she will be

Jennifer winces as she sees the irked look on your face, and she realizes that she might have gone too far with asking you to release her. Her body stiffens as you place your hand over her wrist.

"I'm disappointed that you even asked," you give the handcuffs a shake, "this is for my protection."

"I don't understand," she complains, "I've done everything you wanted me to do. I'm a good girl!"

"True," you concede, "you have been a good girl. But will you always be one?"

You reach around and grab a handful of her breast, pulling her in close to stand nearer your body.

"What if," you give her a squeeze, "in your heart, you want to do me harm."

"I would never!" She protests, "I'm not that kind of woman."

"You know you aren't," you tell her, "but how can I?"

This stumps her for a good while, as her eyes look off into the distance to ponder your question. Eventually she wrings her hands and lowers her head.

"I understand now," she says, "I should remain cuffed so I could show you I'm trustworthy."

"Correct," you confirm her deduction, "you're quite a clever girl."

"It's unfair," she whispers, "I'm already doing what you want."

"I know it's unfair," you calmly say, "but I'm not letting just anyone come into my life in the dead of night and invite them into my home."

She looks at you dejected, but you surprise her by taking a key out and stepping in to remove her cuffs. She turns her body around to face you and massages her wrists as she does so.

"Does this mean you've changed your mind?" she asks tentatively, but you shake your head no. You place the key on the desk, and put the pair of handcuffs next to it. Looking around you spot another pair of handcuffs and take that and its key and place them next to the first pair. And finally you place a third key on the desk. She looks at them in confusion.

"You tell me it's unfair of me to have you cuffed," you begin, "so I'm going to go back to my house and leave you with two choices: The first is to use that key on the end to open that safe," you direct her attention to the box with her stuff inside it, "and get your clothes and stuff back. Then you can simply leave and you won't have to deal with me ever again. I won't call the cops, I won't look for you, and I won't look for your parents to tell them where you were. It's as if we never crossed paths."

She holds herself together as she looks out into the trees. Doubtless imagining spending a night out in the cold while wet and miserable. She looks back at you and shakes her head silently.

"The second choice is to use the two pairs of handcuffs to bind your hands behind your back and your ankles together. Then you will walk to my front door, kneel in front of me, and beg me to take you inside."

Her eyes widen in shock, and she looks at the door and gauges the distance. It's a long walk from the gate kiosk to the front door, and you see her look down on her feet and realize she'd also have to make it while her feet were bound together.

"That's not right," She exclaims, "You're asking too much!"

"It's not, and I am," you concur, nodding your head, "but it's not as if you're not asking too much out of me, either."

You lean against the wall and cross your arms, while scanning her with your eyes from head to toe. She fidgets and moves to cover herself with her arms.

"You're a silly young girl," you berate her, "with no money, and nothing to help her survive in the world. You find yourself on top of a mountain in front of a man you don't know, but he has a mansion and the means to help you, so you let him control you without you complaining. Arms at the sides!"

Flustered, she reflexively follows your command and lets her arms fall to her sides to reveal her body to you again. You chuckle at her mockingly, and she nervously smiles back.

"I don't need you cuffed to have you do what I want you to do," you tell her derisively, "so why do you still think this is a tough choice?"

You get your umbrella and step outside the guard post, and she looks at you with bewilderment.

"But take your time thinking it over," you tell her nonchalantly, "I'll wait for you by the door."

With that you leave her behind and make your way to your front door, taking out your smartphone and checking on the security feed inside the guard kiosk as you walk. You watch her as she leans on the desk with her elbows, staring at the keys intently. By the time you make it into the front patio she looks at the third key, and unlocks the safe. A sinking feeling hits you as she pulls out her clothes and inspects them, then checks inside her bag and looks to see if the contents are all still there. You watch with relief when she puts all her stuff back inside and locks the safe again, and she seems to visibly steel herself before taking a pair of handcuffs and bending down to lock her ankles together in place. She then takes the other pair and locks her hands behind her back as you instructed. She stares outside and from the angle you reckon she's looking at you waiting by the door, and she sighs with relief at spotting you still outside.

"I'm coming!" She calls out, and you barely hear her over the rain, but you make a point to look up from your phone and put it away so she could see she has your attention. She walks out slowly, her movement hampered by the cuffs limiting her to only taking small steps. It takes an agonizing amount of time, and by the time she walks up to you she's shivering mightily from the cold winds and wet rain. She doesn't so much as kneel in front of you as plop down on her knees in exhaustion. Her chest heaves as she breathes deeply, and she stares up at you with pleading eyes. Feeling a little guilty for what you made her do, you move to lift her up to her feet by the arm, but to your surprise she resists your pull and resolutely stays kneeling and bows her head to the ground.

"My name is Jennifer, and I am at your mercy," her body shivers again, and you put an arm under each armpit to pull on her more forcefully up to her feet but she continues her begging while face to face with you, "please take pity on this silly girl who tied herself up for you."

"I already do," you say comfortingly, "my name is Jason Huntley, but as long as you're under my mercy you will call me 'Master'."

"Of course, master." She manages to breathe out, and you can't resist her lips at so close a distance, and you pull her in for a kiss.